Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Belarus and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing New Order to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Albert Ayler,
The Dirtbombs,
Livin' Joy,
Joey Negro,
Organ,
The Black Dice,
Robert Wyatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
The American Breed,
Neu!,
The Skatalites,
L. Decosne,
E-Dancer,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Flipper,
Fat Boys,
Trumans Water,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pussy Galore,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Godley & Creme,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun Ra,
Amon Düül II,
Josef K,
Bush Tetras,
R.M.O.,
Colin Newman,
Underground Resistance,
Barbara Tucker,
Easy Going,
Soul II Soul,
Max Romeo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lakeside,
Fluxion,
Swell Maps,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Massinfluence,
D'Angelo,
Matthew Halsall,
Rosa Yemen,
Scion,
Ponytail,
Accadde A,
Brothers Johnson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oblivians,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Selecter,
The Red Krayola,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Last Poets,
Judy Mowatt,
New Order,
the Association,
Smog,
David Axelrod,
Blossom Toes,
The Walker Brothers,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.